Charles Beaumont: Selected Stories (5 page)

"Just a queer old friend of Elmer's, eh? And you think I did no more than 'make up' those headlines. You don't wonder about this press-" he waved his cane toward the large machine which had supplanted the roll-your-own-"or how the papers got delivered or why they look so professional? Is that press your imagination?"
I looked over at the machine. It was nothing I'd ever seen before. Certainly it was not an ordinary press. But it was real enough. Actual papers were popping out of it at the rate of two or three a second. And then I thought of that photograph.
"My God, Jones, do you mean to tell me that you're-"
"Precisely, my lad, precisely. A bit rusty, as I said, but with many a unique kick left."
He kicked his heels together and smiled broadly.
"Now, you can be of no help whatever. So, since you look a bit peaked around the face, it is my suggestion that you go home and rest for a few days."
"That news… those things in the paper, you mean they were-"
"Absolutely factual. Everything that is printed in the Danville Daily Courier," he said gaily, "is the, er, the gospel truth. Go home, Dick: I'll attend to the reporters and editors and the like. When you're feeling better, come back and we'll work together. Perhaps you'll have a few ideas."
He put another sheet in the typewriter, rested his bushy chin on the head of the cane for a moment, twinkled his eyes and then began typing like mad.
I staggered out of the office and headed straight for Barney's Grill. All I had was beer, but that would have to do. I had to get drunk: I knew that.
When I got to Barney's, the place was crowded. I ordered a beer and then almost dropped it when the waiter said to me:
"You certainly were right on the ball, Mr. Lewis, you and your paper. Who'd a'ever thought the Mayor's wife would have a hippopotamus? Yes sir, right on the ball. I sent in my subscription an hour ago!"
Then Mrs. Olaf Jaspers, a quiet old lady who always had her coffee and doughnut at Barney's before going to work at the hospital, said:
"Oh, it was certainly a sight to see. Miz Lindquist is just as proud. Fancy, a hippopotamus!"
I quickly gulped the beer.
"You mean you actually saw it, Mrs. Jaspers?"
"Oh my yes," she answered. "I was there all the time. We can't any of us figure it out, but it was the cutest thing you ever did see. Who was that old fellow that took the picture, Richard? A new man?"
Everyone began talking to me then, and my head swam around and around.
"Mighty quick of you, Lewis! You've got my subscription for two years!"
"Poor Burl never did catch those pesky dragons. Ate up every one of his turnips, too."
"You're a real editor, Mr. Lewis. We're all going to take the Courier from now on. Imagine; all these funny things happen and you're right there to get all the news!"
I bought a case of beer, excused myself, went home and got blind drunk.
It was nice to wake up the next morning, because, even though my head split I felt sure this was every bit a dream. The hope sank fast when I saw all the beer bottles lying on the floor. With an empty feeling down below, I crawled to the front door and opened it.
No dream.
The paper lay there, folded beautifully. I saw people running down the streets, lickity split, toward Main Street.
Thinking was an impossibility. I made for the boy's room, changed clothes, fixed some breakfast and only then had the courage to unfold the issue. The headlines cried: EXTRA!! Underneath, almost as large:
S.S. QUEEN MARY DISCOVERED
ON MAIN STREET
An unusual discovery today made Danville, U.S.A., a center of a world-wide attention. The renowned steam ship, the S.S. Queen Mary, thought previously to be headed for Italy enroute from Southampton, appeared suddenly in the middle of Main Street in Danville, between Geary and Orchard Ave.
Imbedded deep in the cement so that it remains upright, the monstrous vessel is proving a dangerous traffic hazzard, causing many motorists to go an entire mile out of their way.
Citizens of Danville view the phenomenon with jaundiced eyes, generally considering it a great nuisance.
Empty whiskey bottles were found strewn about the various decks, and all of the crew and passengers remain under the influence of heavy intoxication.
In the words of the Captain, J.E. Cromerline:
"I din' have a thing to do with it. It was that damned navigator, all his fault."
Officials of the steam ship line are coming from London and New York to investigate the situation.
Continued on page 20
That's what it said, and, so help me, there was another photograph, big and clear as life.
I ran outside, and headed for Main Street. But the minute I turned the corner, I saw it,
There, exactly as the paper had said, was the Queen Mary, as quiescent and natural as though she'd been in dock. People were gathered all around the giant ship, jabbering and yelling.
In a dazed sort of way, I got interested and joined them.
Lydia Murphy, a school teacher, was describing the nautical terms to her class, a gang of kids who seemed happy to get out of school.
Arley Taylor, a fellow who used to play checkers with Dad, walked over to me.
"Now, ain't that something, Dick! I ask ya, ain't that something!"
"That, Arley," I agreed, "is something."
I saw Mr. Jones standing on the corner, swinging his cane and puffing his cigar. I galloped over to him.
"Look, Jones, I believe you. Okay, you're the devil. But you just can't do this. First a hippopotamus, now the world's biggest ocean liner in the middle of the street- You're driving me nuts!"
"Why, hello Dick. Say, you ought to see those subscriptions now! I'd say we have five thousand dollars' worth. They're beginning to come in from the cities now. Just you wait, boy, you'll have a newspaper that'll beat 'em all!"
Arguing didn't faze him. I saw then and there that Mr. Jones wouldn't be stopped. So I cussed a few times and started off. Only I was stopped short by an expensive looking blonde, with horn-rimmed glasses and a notebook.
"Mr. Richard Lewis, editor of the Danville Courier?" she said.
"That's me."
"My name is Elissa Traskers. I represent the New York Mirror. May we go somewhere to talk?"
I mumbled, "Okay," and took one more look at the ship.
Far up on the deck I could see a guy in a uniform chasing what couldn't have been anything else but a young lady without much clothes on.
When two big rats jumped off the lowest port hole and scampered down the street, I turned around sharply and almost dragged the blonde the entire way to my house.
Once inside, I closed the door and locked it. My nerves were on the way out.
"Mr. Lewis, why did you do that?" asked the blonde.
"Because I like to lock doors, I love to lock doors. They fascinate me."
"I see. Now then, Mr. Lewis, we'd like a full account, in your own words, of all these strange happenings."
She crossed a tan leg and that didn't help much to calm me down.
"Miss Traskers," I said, "I'll tell you just once, and then I want you to go away. I'm not a well man.
"My father, Elmer Lewis, was a drifter and a floater all his life, until he met the devil. Then he decided what would really make him happy. So he asked the devil to set him up in a small town with a small town newspaper. He asked for a monthly cash stipend. He got all this, so for fifty years he sat around happy as a fool, editing a paper which didn't sell and collecting lousy bugs-"
The blonde baby looked worried, because I must have sounded somewhat unnatural. But maybe the business with the boat had convinced her that unusual things do, occasionally, happen.
"Mr. Lewis," she said sweetly, "before you go on, may I offer you a drink?"
And she produced from her purse a small, silver flask. It had scotch in it. With the elan of the damned, I got a couple of glasses and divided the contents of the flask into each.
"Thanks."
"Quite all right. Now, enough kidding, Mr. Lewis. I must turn in a report to my paper."
"I'm not kidding, honey. For fifty-five years my dad did this, and my mother stuck right by him. The only thing out of the ordinary they ever had was me."
The scotch tasted wonderful. I began to like Miss Traskers a lot.
"All this cost Pop his soul, but he was philosophic and I guess that didn't matter much to him. Anyway, he tricked the devil into including me into the bargain. So after he died and left the paper to me, and I started to go broke, Mr. Jones appeared and decided to help me out."
"To help you out?"
"Yeah, All this news is his work. Before he's done he'll send the whole world off its rocker, just so I can get subscriptions."
She'd stopped taking it down a long time ago.
"I'd think you were a damned liar, Mr. Lewis-"
"Call me Dick."
"-if I hadn't seen the Queen Mary sitting out there. Frankly, Mr. Lew-Dick, if you're telling the truth, something's got to be done."
"You're darn right it does, Elissa. But what? The old boy is having too much fun now to be stopped. He told me himself that he hasn't had anything to do like this for centuries."
"Besides," she said, "how did I get here so quickly? The ship was discovered only this morning, yet I can't remember-"
"Oh, don't worry about it, kid. From now on anything is likely to happen."
Something did. I went over and kissed her, for no apparent reason except that she was a pretty girl and I was feeling rotten. She didn't seem to mind.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang.
"Who is it?" I shouted.
"We're from the Associated Press. We want to see Mr. Richard Lewis," came a couple of voices. I could hear more footsteps coming up the front porch.
"I'm sorry," I called, "he's just come down with Yellow Fever. He can't see anybody."
But it wasn't any use. More and more steps and voices, and I could see the door being pushed inward, I grabbed Elissa's hand and we ran out the back way, ran all the way to the office.
Strangely, there weren't many people around. We walked in, and there, of course, was Mr. Jones at the typewriter. He looked up, saw Elissa and winked at me.
"Listen to this, boy. BANK PRESIDENT'S WIFE CLAIMS DIVORCE-EXPLAINS CAUGHT HUSBAND TRIFLING WITH THREE MERMAIDS IN BATHTUB. 'course, it's rather long, but I think we can squeeze it in. Well, well, who have you there?"
I couldn't think of anything else, so I introduced Elissa.
"Ah, from the Mirror! I got you down here this morning, didn't I?"
Elissa looked at me and I could tell she didn't think I had been trying to fool her.
"Have you turned in your report yet, Miss?"
She shook her head.
"Well, do so immediately! Why do you think I took the trouble of sending you in the first place? Never mind, I'll attend to it. Oh, we're terribly busy here. But a shapely lass like you shouldn't have to work for a living, now should she, Dick?"
And with this, Jones nudged Elissa with his cane, in a spot which caused me to say:
"Now see here Jones-this is going too far! Do that again and I'll punch you in the snoot."
"I must say, Richard, you're just like your father. Don't lose a minute, do you!" I reached out to grab him, but the second afterwards he was over on the other side of the room.
"Tut tut, m'boy, not a very nice way to treat your benefactor! Look at that basket there ."
I looked and so did Elissa. She looked long and hard. The room was full of money and checks, and Mr. Jones danced over with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Bet a couple could take just what's there and live comfortably for a year on it. That is, if they were sure there would be more to come."
He sidled over to Elissa and nudged her again, and I started swinging. Before I landed on my face, a thought came to me. It was a desperate, long-odds, crazy thought, but it seemed the answer to everything.
"Tell you what, Jones," I said, picking myself up off the floor and placing Elissa behind me. "This is a little silly after all. I think you're right. I think I've acted in a very ungrateful fashion and I want to apologize. The Courier is really selling now, and it appears that it'll make me a lot of money. All thanks to you. I'm really sorry."
He put the chair down and seemed pleased.
"Now then, that's more like it, Dick. And, er, I apologize, young lady. I was only being devilish."
Elissa was a sophisticated girl: she didn't open her mouth.
"I can see that you're busy, Mr. Jones, so if you don't mind, Elissa and I will take a little walk."
I gave him a broad wicked wink, which delighted him.
"That's fine, m'boy. I want to get this evening's edition ready. Now let's see, where was I…"
By this time it was getting dark. Without saying a word, I pushed Elissa into the alley behind the shop. You could hear the press chugging away inside, so I began to talk fast.
"I like you," I said, "and maybe after all this is over, we can get together somewhere. But right now the important thing is to stop that bird."
She looked beautiful there in the shadows, but I couldn't take the time to tell her so. Vaguely I sensed that I'd somehow fallen in love with this girl whom I'd met that same day. She looked in all ways cooperative.
I did manage to ask: "You got a boyfriend?"
Again she shook that pretty blonde head, so I got right back to the business at hand.
"Jones has to be stopped. What he's done so far is fantastic, all right, but comparatively harmless. However, we've got to remember that he's the devil after all, and for sure he's up to something. Things won't stay harmless, you can count on that. Already he's forgotten about the original idea. Look at him in there, having the time of his life. This was all he needed to cut loose. Dad made the mistake of leaving the idea of my happiness up to Mr. Jones' imagination."
"All right, Dick, but what do we do?"
"Did you notice that he read aloud what's going to happen tonight, Elissa?"

"You mean about the mermaids in the bathtub?"
"Yes. Don't you get it? That hasn't happened yet. He thinks up these crazy ideas, types 'em out, gets 'em all printed and then they take place. He goes over, takes a few pictures and in some way gets the papers delivered a few minutes later, complete with the news. Don't ask me why he doesn't just snap his fingers-maybe he enjoys it this way more."
"I suppose that's, uh, sensible. What do you want me to do, Dick?"
"It's asking a lot, I suppose, but we can't let him wreck the whole world. Elissa, do you think you could divert the devil for about a half hour?"
Looking at her, I knew she could.
"I get it now. Okay, if you think it'll work. First, do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"Kiss me again, would you?"
I complied, and let me tell you, there was nothing crazy about that kiss. I was honestly grateful to Mr. Jones for one thing at least.
Elissa opened the front door of the office, threw back her hair and crooked a finger at the devil.
"Oh Mr. Jones!"
From the alley I could see him stop typing abruptly. More than abruptly. So would I.
"Why, my dear! Back from your walk so soon? Where is Richard?"
"I don't know-he just walked off and didn't say anything. Now I'm all alone."
The devil's eyes looked like tiny red hot coals, and he bit clean through his cigar. "Well," he said. "Well, well, well!"
"You wouldn't like to take me out for a few drinks, would you, Mr. Jones?"
The way she moved her hips would have me bite through my cigar, if I'd had a cigar. She was doing beautifully.
"Well, I had planned to-no, it can wait. Certainly, Miss Traskers, I'd be pleased, more than pleased, oh, very pleased to accompany you somewhere for a spot. Richard has probably gone home to talk to other reporters."
With this he hopped over the desk and took Elissa's arm.
"Oh, my dear girl, it has been so long, so very long. Voluntarily, I mean."
She smiled at the old goat and in a few minutes they were headed straight for Barney's Grill. I almost chased them when I heard him say, "And afterwards, perhaps we could take a stroll through the woods, eh?"
As soon as they were out of sight, I ran into the office, took his material out of the typewriter and inserted a new sheet.
I thought for a few minutes, and then hurriedly typed:
DEVIL RETURNS HOME
The devil, known also as Mr. Jones, cut short his latest visit to Earth because of altercations in Gehenna. Mr. Elmer Lewis, for some years a resident of the lower regions, successfully made his escape and entry into heaven, where he joined his wife, Elizabeth. The devil can do nothing to alter this, but has decided to institute a more rigorous discipline among his subjects still remaining.
And then, on another sheet I wrote:
OFFICE OF DANVILLE DAILY
COURIER DISAPPEARS
The citizens of Danville were somewhat relieved this morning as they noticed the disappearance of the office of the town's only newspaper, the Courier. All the news reported in the pages of this tabloid since April 11, furthermore, was found to be totally false and misrepresentational, except the information printed in this edition. Those who paid for subscriptions have all received their money in full.
Richard Lewis, the editor, is rumored to be in New York, working for one of the large metropolitan newspapers.
The community of Danville continues a normal, happy existence, despite the lack of a news organ.
I walked over to the machine, which still ejected papers, and quickly inserted the two sheets into the slot, exactly as I'd observed Jones do.
At which point the universe blew up in my face. The entire office did a jig and then settled gently but firmly, on top of my head.
When things unfuzzed and I could begin to see straight, I found myself sitting at a typewriter in a very large and very strange office.
A fellow in shirt.sleeves and tortoise-shells ambled over and thumped me on the back.
"Great work, Dick," he said. "Great job on that city hall fire. C'mon, break down, you set it yourself?"
Of course, as was becoming a habit, I stared dumbly.
"Always the dead-pan-wotta joker! So now you're in the syndicates. Some guys are just plain old lucky, I guess. Do I ever happen to be around when things like that bust out? Huh!"
He walked away, and by degrees, very carefully, I learned that I'd just scooped everybody on a big fire that had broken out in the city hall.
I was working for the Mirror, making $75.00 per week. I'd been with them only a few days, but everyone seemed very chummy.
It had worked. I'd outsmarted the devil! I'd gotten rid of him and the paper and everything. And then I remembered.
I remembered Elissa. So, come quitting time, I asked the first guy I saw:
"Where does Miss Elissa Traskers work, you know?"
The fellow's eyes lit up and he looked melancholy.
"You mean the Blonde Bomber? Whatta gal, whatta gal! Those legs, those-"
"Yeah-where does she work?"
"Second floor. Flunks for Davidson, that lucky-"
I got down to the second floor quick. There she was, as pretty as I remembered her. I walked up and said:
"Hello, honey. It worked!"
"I beg your pardon?"
She didn't have to say any more. I realized with a cold heartless feeling what it was I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten Elissa. Didn't even mention her on either of those sheets, didn't ever mention her!
"Don't you remember, honey? You were doing me a favor, coaxing the devil to buy you a few drinks…"
It was there in her eyes. She could have been staring at an escaped orangoutang.
"Excuse me," she said, picked up her coat and trotted out of the office. And out of my life.
I tried to get in touch with her any number of times after that, but she didn't know me each time. Finally I saw it was no good. I used to sit by the window and watch her leave the building with some other guy or another, sit there and wish I'd just left things like they were while Mr. Jones was having fun. It wasn't very peaceful, but so what. I ask you, so what?
Dick sat in his corner, looking serious as a lawyer. We'd all stopped laughing quite a while back, and he was actually so convincing that I piped up:
"Okay, what happened then? That why you want to quit newspaper work- because of her?"
He snickered out the side of his mouth and lit another cigarette.
"Yeah, that's why. Because of her. But that isn't all. You guys remember what happened to the Governor's wife last week?"
We remembered. Governor Parker's spouse had gone berserk and run down Fifth Avenue without a stitch on.
"You know who covered that story, who was right there again?"
It had been Lewis. That story was what had entrenched him solidly with the biggest syndicate in the country.
"All right. Can any of you add two and two?"
We were all silent.
"What are you talking about?" Jackson asked.
Dick threw down a beer and laughed out loud, though he didn't seem particularly amused.
"I wasn't so smart. I didn't stop the devil; I just stalled him awhile. He's back, y'understand, he's back! And this time he's going to get mad. That's why I'm quitting the newspapers. I don't know what I'll do, but whatever it is Mr. Jones is going to do his damndest to make me successful."
I was about to start the laughter, when I saw something that cut it off sharp. I saw a very old gentleman, with derby, spats and cane, leaning against the bar and winking at me.
It didn't take me long to get home.